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"I think, Mr. Quinn, our best chance is to simply show the dwarfs that we have their best interests in heart, while Lukar does not." Fevre nods. "I see his game, I think. Drag on these talks, hoping for either a complete catipulation that makes Farnesse seem weak, and inspires a thousand new...

Deacon Fevre nods. "This follows suspicions of my own. It appears our 'friends' in the North wish to play on the younger dwarfs' sentimental regard for their old homeland. I think if we send them Lukar's head, they'll see we aren't sleeping..." Anguis steps forward. "Noble Julius, hear me...

I guess this baby got strangled in the womb. Still, I'm willing to try again...

Sir Faulker stands at the end of the street, smiling at you. "Ahh, youth... The many times I kept older men waiting..." He coughs. "Your good lads. I think you'll do well for us."

Aert spreads his arms. Immediately a puppet show appears. A tiny Mountain goblin with his eyes painted purple and a crown on his head sits on a throne. "The Purple Eye tribe are group of Mountain Goblins famed for their wizardry and their devotion to Vathek. They are ruled by Barizar, son of...

The Deacon nods at Seguith's suggestion, as he follows him out to see the city's Lord. "In truth, you've stated what I aimed for, though I'd also want to try any who directly plotted with Lukar instead of merely following. I seem to recall some talk of a clique of dwarfs who seemed to be...

"Return the Axe?" mutters Aert distractedly. "But I need it for... some reason I can't recall..." He twiddles his thumbs for a moment. "Still, the Purple Eyes might just destroy the world if they pull this off..." He glances at Marcus. "Tell you what! I'll give you the Axe on the...

"Master Marcus, you entered into my home, to take something I possess with good reason," notes Aert calmly. "You are in no position to be speaking of forgiveness." He raises his gloved hand, a cool blue flame appearing in it. "I, on the other hand, am a wizard who has lived for centuries and...

Jacob drifts off to dreams of being chased by a one-eyed, one-legged man, leading a pack of hounds.

Could a wandering Byzantine scholar work? Seeing as Justinian's conquest of Italy is looming near in the future, and they were still a trading power? Or is that too much of a stretch?

Rillian, Legend... Ta-da!

At that moment, Aert and Obeah Swiftwing walk out of Nightshade's hut. "My friends," explains Swiftwing, "We have talked it over, and have a favor to ask of you. Devon, Liev and Haemor, you will go to Mount Blacktooth, to try and prevent the Purple Eyes from unlocking the evils of the Azerai...

If you want to, but there are no Psions in Tur An Tiel.

OOC: No, the captain is being held hostage with his family.

Ringmereth: The Deacon nods. "Tis good. What do you think our terms should be, if I may ask? If the two of us are able to hammer out a common platform between us, I think we might stand a very strong chance of getting it accepted by the rest of the commitee."

Caradoc: "You've an honest face. I'll let you have it for--25 gold," she states, after some thought. Alan: Lise giggles. "Come see me some night at The Crescent Moon, and I'll--explain matters to you." Then, blowing him a kiss, she walks away.

Jacob keeps an eye on the team, as quietly and unintrusively as possible.

Rook is pulling a blanket out of the trunk, and sleeping in his car, thank you very much.

Given that most of the people who seemed interested in playing dropped out or haven't posted again--yes. Tomorrow.

Ringmereth: As Seguith talks of Lukar Deacon Fevre nods. "Understand I'm simply for keeping in mind that we are probably dealing with an intriguer. As for not playing us false--well, Seguith, in my experience those who claim high ideals and have none can be counted on for one thing--betrayal...